


Prompts

by Shadeling



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Prompt fills from tumblr, lots of different stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:35:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadeling/pseuds/Shadeling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various tasertricks prompts from Tumblr.  Anything from fluff to smut, individual warnings per chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Tasertricks Fairy Tale AU. So I went with "The Snow Queen". Fluff. Thank you, sergris, for the prompt

Prompt: Tasertricks Fairtale AU.

 

            Darcy burst into the Snow Queen’s throne room, her skirts flying around her legs.  The room was cold and pale, every inch covered with ice.  A frozen lake stretched across the center.  She gasped when she saw Loki sitting on the edge of the lake, but not the Loki she knew and loved.  This Loki had skin a darker blue than the river Darcy had offered her shoes to.  Lighter markings ran across his arms and face like  feathers and his eye, those eyes were a darker red than all the roses in the world.  She watched him with baited breath for a while.  Loki did not seem to notice her, his eyes fixed on what seemed to be shards of ice before him.  His long fingers adjusted the pieces as Darcy slowly approached him.  As she drew closer, she noticed the concentrated furrow of his brow and the excited tremble of his body.  Darcy quietly knelt beside her love, her eyes searching over him for the Loki she knew still lived inside this blue creature. 

            “Loki?” 

            The man didn’t respond, only fiddling with the ice shards as if Darcy didn’t exist to him.  Darcy felt tears start to gather in her eyes, but she shoved them away.  Now was not the time to lose control.  “Loki,” she tried again, this time reaching a trembling hand out to touch him.  His skin was so cold, she wondered how he could possibly survive.   Her fingers stuck lightly to his arm from the cold.  She pulled her hand back, fingers throbbing, then carefully set her hand under his chin, pulling his jaw to look at her.  His red, red eyes stared at her blindly, then recognition bled into them slowly.

            “Darcy?”  His voice had the slur of those nearly frozen.  “What are you doing here?”

            Darcy almost cried from sheer relief.  “What do you think I’m doing?  Rescuing you, big dummy.”

            The look in Loki’s eyes was an amused sort of befuddled.  “Rescue?  I don’t need rescuing, silly Darcy.”

            There was a muted crackling throughout the room.  A stalactite fell from the ceiling and crashed through the icy lake with a shudder.  Darcy jumped at the sound while Loki went back to the shards.  She looked around anxiously; the Snow Queen would be back any moment now. 

            “Loki,” she pleaded, “please, we need to leave.”

            “Oh no, I can’t leave yet.”  Loki gave her a confident smile that squeezed at her heart, it was so achingly _Loki_.  “I haven’t finished yet.”

            “Finished?”  Loki gestured at the shards and Darcy could see that they spelt out the beginnings of a word.  E-T-E-R-N…

            “Eternity?”

            “My lady bid me to spell it for her with the shards.”

            “Why?  What purpose does that serve?”

            Loki ignored her questiong, fiddling with shards to make an ‘I’. 

            “My queen promised me the world if I can do it.  It’s so simple and yet,” he made a sound akin to a growl in his throat, “there aren’t enough pieces.”  Sure enough, Darcy could see that no matter how he arranged the shards, he was always just one shard away from the final letter.

            “What happens if you can’t do it,” Darcy asked, her breath coming out in white plumes. 

            Loki gave her a baffled expression.  “Nothing,” he said.  “I stay until I am finished.  That is all.”

            Darcy knew then that the Snow Queen would never let him go and that she was as good as dead if she didn’t get Loki away from here.  Her fingers were beginning to go numb and she couldn’t quite feel her toes. 

            “Come on, Loki, we need to go.”  She tugged on his arm desperately.

            “I’m not going.  Not until I’m done.”  Loki looked at her again, beaming a manic sort of grin.  “The world will be mine, little Darcy.  All mine.”

            Shivers started ratcheting through her spine and her teeth started to chatter. 

            “Please, Loki,” she whispered through the chatters.

            “Don’t worry, Darcy, it will be alright.”  His attention is reclaimed by the ice.

            Darcy felt heat build behind her eyes and this time, she couldn’t stop the tears.  It felt like fire running down her face and across her stiff lips.  She took a shuddering breath and placed her hands on his face again and pulled him to her.  His mouth should have felt cold against hers, she dimly thought as she moved her lips against his gently.  Her lips stuck where the tears had wet them and a hard shiver rattled her against him.  “I love you,” she whispered desperately.  “I love you.”  Her tears ran down her cheeks, across their lips, dripping down his chin before finally landing helter-skelter across his chest.  Loki gasped as heat shot through his body for the first time in what felt like millennia.  Another tear hit next to the first and Loki clutched Darcy to him and kissed her back in a frenzy.  Tears of his own, icy cold at first fluttered down to their lips.  The ice in his heart and eyes melted and the tears became warm as honey.  Loki didn’t notice the glowing of the letters beside them as they slowly readjusted themselves into the favored word.  For while all the world might seem a prize, only an eternity with the one you loved was worth living.


	2. Impulse or I Like You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From queen-of-the-round-table:
> 
> alright, can someone write a story where it’s darcy who bitch slaps loki and he gets this smile on his face and then grabs here chin and gets in her personal space and says ”i like you.” then pushes her against the wall and they have hot hot sex? can you? can you write that for me? and maybe loki is all ”say my name”? please i will love you 5ever if you write it!
> 
> I hope this is "hot". I've never really written smut before so, hope it works out here

            Darcy Lewis was something of a pacifist.  Not that she wouldn’t fight for something she believed in and all, but honestly, Darcy was a very relaxed, laid back person.  She’d never been that girl who got into cat fights with other girls, physical or otherwise, even if she was snappy with the comebacks.  The only time she’d ever really hit anyone was in self-defense (sorry, Thor).  She preferred to let other people do the fighting, people who were stronger, braver, smarter.  People who were simply _more_ than Darcy Lewis, who’s main strengths included a wide knowledge of pop culture, a mean cup of coffee, and a willingness to use her Taser when absolutely necessary.  Sure she was maybe a little impulsive, especially when she was in a stressful situation, but not violent.

            So, relatively clean track record behind her, Darcy had no idea what in sanity’s name had possessed her do it.  Really, there was no forethought, no plot for revenge, no righteous anger.  But when she came face to face with Loki of Asgard for the first time (second, if you counted the bit with the Destroyer, which Darcy really didn’t, because even if Loki had been controlling it, she hadn’t seen his face, which was way, way too pretty to belong to the craziest cat in nine universes), Darcy went with her impulses and her impulses were apparently subconsciously chanting, “Slap.  Dat.  Ho.”  And that was how Darcy Lewis, poli sci major, wound up face to face with the most unhinged man on the planet, her handprint clearly branded across his pale cheek.  Darcy’s mouth fell open in quiet shock at her own action, but it was far, far too late to take it back, so she did the only thing she could do.

            “That was for New York,” she said as she massaged her palm.  Hot damn, if she hadn’t just about cut open her hand on his cheekbones.  Slapping people hurt.  Who knew? 

            Loki seemed stunned for a moment then slowly turned his head back to face her, giving her the widest, most dangerous smile Darcy had ever seen.  It was then that Darcy realized that she was completely and totally alone with a mass murderer that she’d practically assaulted. 

Later she would wonder why _anyone_ thought leaving Loki alone with Darcy No-Filter Lewis was a good idea.  Maybe Thor thought it’d do Loki good to be around a mortal he might’ve subjugated.  Maybe the other warriors assumed that because he was being sort of helpful at the moment meant he wouldn’t harm her.  Maybe the Queen (who Darcy hadn’t met yet, but really wanted to) had seen something on the horizon and subtly arranged for this situation to come to pass.  Darcy had no idea, doubted she’d ever truly know, but later, she couldn’t be sure if she regretted being caught in this situation. 

            So, anyway.  Hello, slap, smile.

            Loki’s smile had the lazy, graceful edge of a bloodied sword, his eyes a green miasma of chaos.  If Darcy had seen his hand move, she might’ve flinched.  Just a little.  As it was, Loki moved so fast that she didn’t even catch a blur before his large hand captured her chin in a bruising grip.  The other hand cradled the back of Darcy’s neck as Loki started pushed her backwards.

            “I like you,” he purred as Darcy did her best not to trip over her feet as he propelled her with irresistible force.  Darcy gasped as her back hit the wall and Loki’s face was literally a breath away from hers.  His mad eyes were alight with some reckless emotion.  “I like you a lot,” the words were barely a hiss as Loki’s mouth slanted across Darcy’s with a near brutality that juxtaposed with the tender hand that curled into her brown hair and stroked the back of her neck as lightly as a feather.  Darcy was shell-shocked, to understate things.  Here she was, being vigorously kissed by the hottest man Darcy had ever seen, who had just happened to put a decent effort into taking over her planet.  _Conflicted_ didn’t describe it.  Her mind and body instantly started warring over the proper response: knock him out or knock him _out_.

She vaguely wondered if Loki could somehow sense the battle inside her, because he masterfully worked his tongue inside her mouth, adding conclusive proof for the side of her that was arguing heavily for jumping the pretty man.  The side that kept presenting Erik Selvig’s tormented face post-mindrape was still holding her ground but between Loki’s lips and her body’s treacherous response to them, she was taking heavy fire. 

            “Wait,” she managed to work out, pushing against the god’s chest.  “Stop!” 

            “Why,” he practically snarled as he pulled away.  His hand left her chin and braced himself on the wall behind them.  “You can’t lie to me, mortal.  You find me attractive; if I pressed my fingers between your legs now, I would find the proof of this.  And I find you,” he ran his tongue over her lips teasingly, “very attractive.  So why stop here?  Why not succumb?”  His mouth fell on hers again, but Darcy pushed him back before her mind could get too muddled by desire.

            “I’m not that girl who jumps into bed with random guys I just met.  Especially when said guy tried to enslave my entire species.”

            “Why not?”  Loki smirked at her, tongue playing at the edge of his teeth.  “A little risk makes life more _fun_ , don’t you think?”

            “I’m not a huge fan of your version of fun.”

            “Oh, I disagree.  I think you’d be a great _fan_ of my fun, if you’ve got the nerve for it.”

            Bad boy did not just call Darcy Lewis a chicken-shit in sexy medieval talk.  Morals or not, Darcy Lewis had never turned down a dare in her life, not when in second grade, Collin Freeman pronounced that a girl would never eat anything wiggly or slimy, not when some snark had loudly stated that Darcy Lewis would never, ever surprise anyone (an event triggered another event involving a garden hose, several dozen eggs, her mother’s expensive lingerie, and a handheld recorder that had been dubbed “That Which Must Not Be Named” in the Lewis household).

            “Oh, I’ve got nerve, alright.  Question is,” Darcy quirked her head innocently at the Trickster, “do you have the _cajones_ to come and get me?”

            Loki blinked then grinned that mad smile again.  “You’re playing a dangerous game, Ms. Lewis.  One I don’t think you’re prepared for.”

            “Well, I guess you’ll just have to find out.  Cuz I’m gonna need a hell of a lot of _incentive_ if I’m gonna screw the guy who trashed New York for kicks.  Serious incentive.”

            “Incentive, you say?  I think that can be arranged.”  Since his hand was already conveniently curled in Darcy’s hair, it took no effort to jerk her head back for another searing kiss while his other hand slid down to her breast.  Darcy moaned and sucked on Loki’s tongue while he roughly squeezed her breast through her cotton T-shirt.   His fingers found her pert nipple and pinched it harshly, then brushed his thumb across the bud soothingly.  He repeated the action a few more times before both his hands moved to her shoulders and shoved her jacket off her arms.  Moving faster than Darcy could think, he’d yanked her shirt over her head and tossed in to join the jacket.

            “Hey, no fair,” Darcy mumbled against his teeth.  “I wanna see some skin.”

            “Later,” he promised as one hand found the previously neglected nipple and started working his brutal magic while the other shoved itself down Darcy’s pants.  He stroked her wet core through the soft fabric of her panties, laughing when wanting, frustrated sounds escaped her throat.  Her hands found themselves in his dark hair and she tugged on it as she nipped his lips roughly.  _Quid pro quo_ , she thought delightedly as her ministrations won her a startled sound out of the prince’s mouth.  She started fumbling with his armor. 

            “Off,” she demanded.  Loki chuckled.

            “As you wish,” he murmured and the armor disappeared under his hands.  All of it.  Darcy ran her hands down his pale chest while the god flicked away her bra.  She ran her tongue across his collarbone and down his chest, experimenting with what sensations drove him wild.  He liked pain, she figured out very quickly when she nipped his nipple roughly as payback for her own.  His response had been a short gasp then teeth bit harshly into the juncture between her neck and shoulder as a long finger twisted past her underwear and shoved into her hot core.  They continued their game of one-upmanship for a long while until Loki’s hand left Darcy’s pants.  The god pulled away and sucked her juices off his fingers, staring at Darcy boldly. 

“I think it’s time to finish our little game, pet,” he hissed as his hand moved back to her jeans.  Darcy gasped as the fabric was torn off her body, followed by the scraps of her panties.  Then she was lifted into the air, her back settling against the wall as Loki shoved himself inside.  His mouth fastened on her breast as he pumped inside her with punishing force.  Darcy cried out, her hands once again wrapped in his hair as he sucked and bit in time to his movements.  Every push brought him deeper and deeper inside her until Darcy thought she might burst from the sheer pressure of him.  As pleasure built inside her, Darcy roughly pulled his face away from her chest, ignoring his irritated hiss, and claimed his mouth with a fierceness to rival a dragon’s.  So, Loki drank in her screams as she climaxed around him.  He continued moving, riding out her orgasm as he swallowed every sound she made, every cry, every whimper.  He growled darkly as he came closer and closer and finally spilled himself inside her.  They panted together quietly, never breaking eye contact, until Loki started licking the already dark bruises along her body. 

“I knew you liked me,” he said smugly as he carefully set her back on her feet. 

Darcy wobbled a little as her legs trembled before replying, “I’d like you a lot better if you fixed my pants before Thor comes back.”

Loki smirked as he waved his hand and her jeans knitted themselves back together.  His armor reappeared along his body as Darcy fumbled into her clothes.  But before she could reclaim her panties, the scraps of fabric flew out of her grasp and into Loki’s waiting palm.

“I believe I’ll keep these,” he purred as he pocketed them.  “A souvenir, you might say.”  Before Darcy could protest, he added, “You might want to finish dressing.  Thor will return momentarily.”

“A souvenier, huh.”  Darcy mused as she hurriedly pulled her pants on.  “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in starting a collection, would you?”

           

            


	3. Stuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Darcy is getting intimate with Loki in his Jotun form for the first time, but things quickly take a turn for the awkward when her tongue gets stuck to him, a la A Christmas Story. Thank you, constantlycomic :)

“This is foolish,” Loki pouted as Darcy straddled him, running her small hands up and down his chest.  Darcy rolled her eyes at him and bounced herself lightly on his stomach.

            “Come on, Snape, pony up.  We had a deal.  I play guinea pig for your weird-ass experiments and I get some naughty-in-blue time.  Look, I even dressed the part.”  She gestured towards her breasts, barely covered in icy-blue lace, a snowflake pattern over the nipples.  Her panties matched prettily, but Loki couldn’t see the snowflakes from his position.  He scowled as Darcy bounced again, this time brushing her ass down against his groin.  She grinned at him as she felt him harden against her.  “Come on, we had a deal.  And even if we didn’t, you totally owe me for that color-switch spell.”  That particular spell had been an attempt to heighten her night vision (an experiment requested by SHIELD).  Darcy had wound up wandering around for three days with all of her colors confused.  What was black became red, green to yellow, red to purple and so on.  For three days, Loki had looked like a bedraggled Ronald McDonald and Darcy had been banned from driving until the spell wore off. 

            “I’m not responsible for any accidents or mishaps you had.”  Loki hissed as Darcy rocked back, her breasts swaying temptingly.  “It’s in your contract.”

            Darcy’s response was to run her tongue over his lips.  “Pay up.”  She pulled away when he tried to catch her lip between his teeth.  “Or I take this back to the store and leave you all by your lonesome.”  She ran her hands over her breasts and down her stomach, over his ribs and up to his shoulders.  Loki’s breath hitched and he rolled his eyes.

            “Fine,” he growled and was rewarded with a kiss.  His hand wandered up to her breast and squeezed lightly.  Darcy moaned into his mouth and he sucked on her tongue.  Darcy finally pulled herself away gasping, hair disheveled and one pert nipple peeking out from the top of her bra.  She watched him expectantly, giving him a winning smile.  Loki locked his eyes on Darcy and slowly revealed blue skin.  Darcy gasped as cobalt swirled across his chest and spread across his body.  Light ridges curved across his muscles, accentuating the iron strength within him.   The chill spread up his neck and across his face, finally reaching his eyes, darkest red bleeding into them.  He watched her face, waiting for the imminent rejection.  But Darcy’s blue eyes held only curious fascination as she ran her fingers gently across the ridges and skin. 

            “You’re cold,” she said then grinned mockingly.  “Duh, of course you’re cold.  You’re a Frost Giant.”  She traced the ridges along his neck and cheekbones, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his.  “You have no idea how hot this makes me,” she whispered against his mouth before sliding down his body.  Silent laughter in her eyes, Darcy hooked her fingers into his underwear and slid them down his long legs.  She grasped his hard length confidently before suddenly gasping.  “Dude, your penis is like an icicle.  That’s so weird.”  She grinned at him again.  “This is gonna be awesome.”  The woman gently blew warm air over his head and Loki hissed in pleasure. 

            “Don’t tease me, woman.  Get on with it.”

            Darcy tsked at him.  “Patience, young grasshopper,” she said in a sage voice, her face serious for a few moments, then she burst out laughing.  “The patient shall be rewarded,” she cackled.  Loki couldn’t help but smirk at her tomfoolery before giving her a stern look. 

            “I’ve been patient long enough.  You’ve got me this far, don’t stop now.”

            “Okay, okay, okay,” she gasped, wiping tears from her eyes.  “Wow, sorry.”  She gave the base of his penis a gentle squeeze and pressed her tongue against his head. 

            Loki wasn’t sure who was more surprised when her tongue didn’t slide across him as expected and instead stuck to him like glue.  Darcy’s eyes widened comically as she tried unsuccessfully to tug herself free.  The sensation felt wonderful to Loki, like a massage to his head, but less so for Darcy.

            “Hey,” she garbled.  “Le’ go.” 

            Loki laughed for a moment as Darcy glared at him, an effect ruined by her tongue hanging out her mouth like a dog.

            “Du’.   Seisly.  Ib stug.” 

            “What was that?  I couldn’t quite hear you.”  Now he was laughing uncontrollably.  Darcy narrowed her eyes at him and punched him in the thigh.

            “Helb me, asho.”

            Still chuckling to himself, Loki sat up and put his hands under her jaw.  “Just relax for a moment,” he said while he searched his mind for the correct spell.  He hummed lightly as Darcy closed her teeth on his thumb and bit down.  The movement forced her tongue to pull back into her mouth, so that her lips brushed against his head.

            “Hurry ub.”

            “Weren’t you the one who asked for patience?”  Her teeth tightened on his thumb and exquisite pain started to blossom up his hand.  “Darling, you’re not making a good case for getting unstuck.”

            “Ib goin to ki’ ooh.”

            “Hey, Lokes, do you know where Darcy is?  Jane’s going ballistic—,” Tony walked in without knocking.  The playboy stopped dead in his tracks before raising his eyebrows at Loki.  “Blue, huh.  Want me to lead Jane off?”

            “That would be appreciated,” Loki said solemnly.  “And, also, do you think you could bring us some warm water.  Darcy’s feeling a bit chilled.”

            “Sure thing, Lokes, just spill the beans later.”  Tony left the room, a smirk across his face.

            “’Our a de’ man.”

            “I aim to please.”

 

 


	4. Gotta Catch 'Em All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Loki starts to get a little too obsessed with Pokémon and Darcy secretly holds the local title of Pokémon master. I think this could be considered crack but I'm not sure. Thanks for the prompt, electronic pencil :D

No one was really sure how it all got so out of hand, but pretty much everyone agreed that it was all Tony’s fault. 

It all started one rainy morning at Avengers Tower

            Everyone was wandering around the tower with the aimless apathy of the bored.  There were no supervillains to fight, no press to satisfy, no adoring fans to wave at.  So, most of the team had wandered off to do their own thing.  Tony had just come up from tinkering with his newest suit to grab a snack.  He opened the fridge and was immediately splattered with a mixture of beer, milk, and Pepper’s green tea.

            “Loki,” he yelled as he grabbed a towel off a cupboard.  “Loki, what the fuck was that?”  He stormed into the TV room, clothes sopping wet and sticky.  The god in question was lazing on the couch, flipping through the channels with a bored expression.  Darcy Lewis, Loki’s sometimes-girlfriend, was sitting cross-legged on the armchair next the couch that Loki was currently hogging, her laptop balanced on her legs.  She looked up at Tony and busted out laughing. 

            “Loki, what did you do,” she gasped as her brown hair fell in her face.

            Loki barely deigned to look up from the television.  “Merely a parlor trick.  Nothing impressive.”

            “What the hell did you do that for?”

            “I’m bored, Stark,” he said blandly.  “I’ve only Darcy and the pittance of your American entertainment system to occupy me, and Darcy is busy with her classes.”

            “Gotta finish school if I wanna make the big bucks,” Darcy said, attention already drawn back to her laptop, fingers rhythmically striking keys.

            “So what, you booby trapped my fridge out of lack of anything better to do?”

            “Exactly,” Loki switched the channels again, wrinkling his nose in disgust.  Tony stormed off, muttering under his breath, and Darcy popped in her headphones to drown out the sounds of screaming housewives.  A few minutes later, Tony came back, wearing a new shirt, and carrying several small, plastic boxes. 

            “Here,” he said, chucking the items onto Loki’s legs.  “These oughta keep you out of my hair.”

            Loki flicked off the television idly and picked up the boxes.  One of them was a thin black box, like a miniature version of Darcy’s laptop.  It flipped open to reveal two screens and a variety of buttons and came with a small stick that stretched out to fit his hand.  The other boxes were cases of what seemed to be a game of some sort.  Pokémon, the cases read, accompanied by names of colors or precious gems. 

            “That,” Tony pointed to the black box, “is a Nintendo DS.  You put a game in that slot on top, and you tap the screen on the bottom as you play.”

            “This,” he picked up one of the Pokémon cases, “is arguably the most successful video game franchise ever created.  You run around collecting strange little animals to become the greatest Pokémon trainer there ever was.  Black and White are the newest in the series, but I threw some of the older ones in there if you’d prefer.” 

            Loki flipped the covers over.  “This is a children’s game,” he sneered.

            “Try it for about an hour.  If you don’t like it, I’ll dig something else up for you.  But I guarantee you’ll be hooked.”

            “What’s that,” Darcy interrupted, pulling the headphones off.  “Ooh, Pokémon, fun times.  I used to play that all the time with my brothers.”

            Loki looked back and forth between Darcy and Tony.  “Fine.  I’ll play your game.”

            “Sweet!  Maybe once my classes settle down, we can play together.”

 

            Within an hour, Loki was hooked.  Within a week, he’d played through Diamond and Pearl and had moved on to Heartgold and Soulsilver.  Every spare moment was spent battling, training, collecting.  If he wasn’t playing Pokémon, he was researching statistics and tips.  If he ever deigned to speak to anyone, it was of Pokémon.  Poor Steve often left a conversation feeling bemused, since he barely knew how to work a television, much less a video game.  Thor grew increasingly concerned with his brother’s new obsession, but Tony shrugged it off.

            “That’s just how Pokémon works.  You can’t put it down for months at a time, then it gathers dust in your drawer for years.”

            “It is good to see him so keen on something other than mischief,” Thor admitted. 

            “Exactly.  Pokémon Master Loki is better than World Domination Loki.”

            “Speak for yourself,” Darcy grumped nearby.  “I haven’t had sex or even a normal conversation with my boyfriend in over a month.  It blows, and not in a nice way either.”

            Darcy wasn’t the only one with complaints.  Clint and Natasha would be training new recruits when illusions of small fluffy, often flaming, creatures would suddenly run across the training ground, startling the bejeezus out of the recruits and creating a massive migraine for all of the senior Agents, who then had to spend the rest of the day convincing trainees that, no, Pokémon did not really exist.

            At this point, Loki had cleared Heartgold and Soulsilver and had stoically moved on to Black and White.

            The jingle of Nuvema Town and the howl of vanquished Pokémon haunted all of the Avengers dreams.  Darcy, at least, had the sense to kick him out of her bedroom before his night time playing could disturb her, but the rest of the Avengers had little relief.  Especially as he started taking his no-longer shiny DS out on missions and team-building sessions. 

            “This is all your fault,” Pepper snarled at Tony one night, after a quite corporeal Jigglypuff had Sung her to sleep, then wrathfully doodled on her face.  The markings was apparently permanent as no amount of scrubbing, exfoliating, or cursing could even fade them.

            “Oh, come on, how was I supposed to know he’d start making them come to life?  And you have to admit, it’s pretty funny.”

            Pepper fixed him with That Stare, the one that froze the blood in his veins.  “I have a teleconference with the Japanese tomorrow morning, followed by two press sessions and an interview for Times magazine.  I can _not_ go on camera looking like an anime character!  You will fix this, or so help me—.”

            “Okay, okay.  I’ll go....do something.”

 

            Despite Tony’s best efforts, and even the efforts of the rest of the Avengers (nothing brought them together like stopping Loki from his nefarious goals), Loki remained enthralled with the game.  He did put down the DS for about ten seconds to magic away Pepper’s new eye liner a la Jigglypuff, which just proved that Loki’s survival instincts could overcome his dreams of being Pokémon master.  Finally, it was Darcy, normal, jabbery Darcy who brought an end to his reign of horror.

            She approached him while he was lounging on the couch where it all began.  She tapped his knee with a purple DS and said flatly, “Yo.  Pokémon battle.  Now.”

            “Busy now.” 

            Darcy whacked him harder.  “I’m offering you a one-time deal.  Beat me, and you can come back to the bedroom with me and we can do sexy Pokémon roleplaying.  I win, you put the game down and walk away.  Like, forever.”

            Loki sneered at her.  “Deal.  I won’t hold back.”

            “Bring it on.”

 

            Ten minutes later, it was all over.  Loki stared in horror as his screen went black and the white type, “Loki blacked out!” 

            “Did I mention that my brothers are pretty much the badassest, most competitive Pokémon players ever?  Growing up with that, it’s a wonder I survived.  Now hand it over.”

            Loki felt his heart cringe as he handed over the DS sulkily.  She threw it to Tony who’d been watching from around the corner.

            “There.  Problem solved.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have three papers on physics and the state of the Union to finish by ten tonight.”

            Tony and Loki watched as she sashayed away.

            “Huh, who knew Darcy was the Pokémon Master?”

            Jane Foster heard as she wandered by and was snapped out of her science-induced daydream.  “Oh God, is Darcy playing Pokémon again?  She doesn’t get any work done when she’s on a Pokémon kick.”

            Loki stood up suddenly and walked away.

            “What are you up to now?”  Tony asked suspiciously.

            “Revenge.”


	5. Dream Walkin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from dl-prompts: Dream sharing. Accidental, intentional, 100% smut, whatever you like.
> 
> Title based off the song by Toby Keith

Dream Walkin’

            Darcy wandered through the golden halls, eyes wide with wonder.  Her pale hands fluttered and fluffed at her cream-colored skirt that flowed out like a pale bell.  The fabric was soft and tantalizing, like down feathers or rabbit fur.  The top hugged her body like a lover, the hem encrusted with pearls.  Oddly, it wasn’t really uncomfortable, considering how tight it was.  Darcy marveled at the dress, wondering vaguely how she could afford something like this.   

            “My lady,” a cool voice drew her from her fashion musings.  The man was startlingly handsome, with icy pale skin and dark, dark hair.  He stood there confidently, hands clasped in front of him, wearing a strange leather outfit of gold, green, and black.  She met green eyes with her blue and smiled, an eerie sense of familiarity stirring along her mind.

            “Hello.  I think I’m lost.  Can you help me?” 

            The man smiled at her.  “I’m sure I can.”  He offered her his arm, which she took without hesitation.  They walked down the halls, her heels clacking on the polished floors in the silence.  Darcy kept glancing at him, that feeling of familiarity growing stronger, but she couldn’t for the life of her place where she’d seen his face.  They came upon a set of doors and the man reached up a hand to push them open.

            “Do I know you,” Darcy blurted suddenly.  He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, hand resting on the golden door.  She flushed.  “I mean, I don’t know, I just feel like we’ve met or something.”  He didn’t answer, just watching her with that look.  “Just forget it, I guess.  I’m probably just confused or something.” 

            “Perhaps,” the man agreed cryptically and pushed.  Both doors flew open as if pulled by invisible butlers and revealed the hugest room Darcy had ever seen.  The ceiling rose up like a wave, so high she couldn’t see the crest.  The ceiling was decorated with murals of hunting parties and grand epic battles, and an enormous chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling.  The room was filled with people, the women in dresses as fine as Darcy, some even finer.  The men wore a variety of outfits; some in jeweled fabrics, some in leather armor like her companion’s.  Darcy stared at the chandelier, wondering at the green flecks and orbs of strange, alien colors that hung off crystal branches.

            “It is inspired by Yggdrasil,” her companion whispered in her ear, hands brushing her waist.  “The nine orbs represent the nine realms.”  Music filled the room, like nothing Darcy had ever heard before.  The crowd paired off immediately and started swaying to a dance that Darcy thought might be a waltz.  “Shall we,” he tilted his head towards the dancers.

            Darcy glanced around, then smiled.  “Sure, but I gotta tell you, I’m a horrible dancer.”

            He smiled a strange, almost wistful smile.  “I somehow doubt that, Miss Lewis.”

 

            The waltz was surprisingly easy, once she got the hang of it.  Darcy only stepped on his foot once or twice, which he ignored graciously.  Darcy was faintly aware that the music was changing to a faster piece, but her partner kept her at a slow and steady pace. 

            “I feel like I should be hungry,” she said suddenly, her voice clearly heard despite the music around them.  “Like, I should need a drink or something.  We’ve been dancing forever.”

            Her partner made one of those sounds people make when they don’t have a response for whatever you just said.  They kept swaying along the floor, avoiding the other couples with careful grace.  Darcy continued her musings, her eyes flicking from her feet, to the room, to her companion.

            “This is a dream, isn’t it?”

            The man smiled at her.  “You’re a smart girl.”

            “I guess.”  She was suddenly kind of creeped out by the dancers, who were now faceless puppets moving to the tune of a lively song.  “Can we go somewhere else?”

            “Of course.”

            The ballroom disappeared and they were standing next to a crystalline lake, as calm and smooth as a mirror.  Darcy crouched down, skirts rumpling in the dirt, and ran her hand through the water, finding it pleasantly cool.  “Neat.”  She straightened and her skirt fluffed back up, the white folds unblemished.  “Okay, that’s just handy.”  Lifting her skirts up and kicking off her shoes, Darcy waded confidently into the lake.  The soft silty bottom felt wonderful against her bare feet.  The water rippled around her and the white gown pulled down at her shoulders, like a mermaid pulling her lover into the depths.  “It’s not actually possible for me to drown here, is it?”

            “I would never let you drown,” her guide replied, which was not quite the same thing, but whatever.  Darcy waded deeper into the water, until the soft waves reached above her hips. 

            She turned back towards the shore and beckoned to the stranger.  “You coming in or what?”  Even from this distance, she could see the glint of his brilliant smile as he smoothly entered the water.  Within moments, he was before her, smile still wide.

            “You are lovely, Darcy Lewis.”  He slowly dragged his hand through the water then reached up and stroked her face, letting the cool water run down her cheeks like tears.  He repeated the action again and again, until Darcy’s face was slick and her hair soaked against her back.  He traced her lips with his icy fingers.  “Might I steal a kiss from you, my lady?”

            “Finally,” Darcy grumbled before lunging up and latching her mouth to his.  Her guide stumbled back a step in surprise but quickly regained his footing, his arms wrapping around her.  The man quickly took control of the situation, doing devilish things with his tongue while his hand found her breast and started kneading and playing with the soft flesh.  His hand left her breast for a moment and Darcy nipped him in displeasure.  Her stranger laughed darkly into her mouth and shoved his dripping, icy-wet fingers down the front of her gown, making Darcy gasp.  The cold fingers found her nipple easily and his other hand started tugging at the strings holding her dress together.  A strange buzzing sound was humming in the back of Darcy’s mind, but she ignored it in favor of the man in her arms.  “I don’t even know your name,” she breathed as the gown loosened and started to droop off her shoulders.

            “You will,” he promised as he pushed the dress down, into the water.  With unnatural strength, he hoisted Darcy up, letting the dress slink off her body before her legs wrapped around his waist and he started nipping and sucking at her previously-unattended nipple.

            “Oh, God,” Darcy moaned, and her companion chuckled against her breast.

            “Clever Darcy,” he whispered, flicking her nipple with his tongue. 

            “Darcy!  Darcy, wake up!”  Hard hands shook Darcy quite suddenly out of her dream, much to her distress.

            “What the hell, Jane,” she snapped, batting away the astrophysicist’s hands.

            “Can’t you hear the alarms?  We’ve gotta go, now.”  Jane flung a pair of sweat pants at Darcy.  “They’re evacuating the entire facility, but no one will tell me what’s going on.”

            Darcy squirmed into her pants and started searching for a jacket and her glasses.  “Dude, this blows.  I was having the hottest dream, you would not believe.”  She plucked her glasses off the desk by the window and grabbed a green sweater off the floor.  “I’m ready.”

            Jane handed her a pair of shoes and her purse, muttering about organizations keeping their workers in the dark.  The two women left the room, Darcy chattering aimlessly while Jane muttered.  The door closed and the lock latched, leaving the room in complete darkness.

            Loki scowled at the door, his fingers leaving grooves in the bedpost.  He’d been so close, if Thor’s whore hadn’t interrupted-.  The wood snapped under his hand and he hurled the wood against the door furiously.  Loki forced himself to calm.  There would be other opportunities.  Now that he knew the taste and feel of Darcy Lewis’s mind, it would be much easier to find her and claim her.  Loki knelt and picked up a scrap of blue fabric off the floor.  A bra, discarded before Darcy had retired for the night.  Loki smirked and pocketed the fabric.  “You are mine, Darcy Lewis,” he said aloud to the empty room.  “You just don’t know it yet.”

           

            


	6. Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off the prompt from dl-prompts: Hands. Whether it's hand porn, hand fascination, ambidexterity, just make it about hands. Kinda angsty, no smut.

Some men like legs.  Some men like breasts.  Loki, though, had a certain fondness for hands.  Darcy was always teasing him about it, too.

            “All that time the media was brainwashing me about maintaining my boobs when I should’ve been moisturizing my hands,” she laughed as he kissed her fingers again and again.  He’d usually nip the delicate skin there in response to hear her laugh again.

            “Hands are the most trustworthy body part,” he’d say sagely.  “You can learn to lie with your face, your eyes, even your body, but no one can lie with their hands.”  He ran a palm up her leg.  “When you force yourself to stay still, the energy in your body circles.  Like a storm,” he traced circles on her hip in illustration.  “Eventually, the energy has to bleed off, so it takes the easiest route out.  The body is efficient that way.”  He pushed his thumb across the inside of her thigh and her fingers curled in on themselves.  She laughed in surprise then pulled him in for a kiss. 

            “The God of Lies is a handy man.”

 

            Of course, that wasn’t the only reason.  Nothing is ever simple with the Trickster God.  Hands were creation.  In the past, he’d often taken artists and musicians as lovers.  He found very little as interesting as watching his lover tenderly mold a piece of her soul into a work of art or a composition.  He was made to destroy; it was refreshing to witness the other side of the coin.  And his Darcy, who claimed to have no artistic talent at all, was a wonder to watch.  Her hands moved with her words and thoughts like they were dancing to the most exquisite music.  Her every touch was serenity and passion stitched together like silken robes.  Even when she was absorbed in her work, transcribing notes and entering data, her fingers lightly skipped over the keyboard as delicately as a fairy. 

           

Hands were time.  More accurate then wrinkles in the skin or the dimming of the senses.  Hands were simply a collection of gears and joints and when one failed, well, it was only a matter of time before the rest started to follow suit.

            Loki remembered that first time her hands failed her.  They were getting ready for dinner and Darcy was fussing over a roast or some such thing.  Jane and Thor were meandering in the living room, smiling politely at him.  Even after five years together, her friends couldn’t believe that they were still here, still together.  Thor was the only one genuinely thrilled with their coupling.  He thought Darcy was a good influence on his wayward brother. 

            The table was set and all was ready except the roast.  Darcy smiled broadly, proud of her achievement (they normally ate much simpler meals) and lifted up the heavy platter.  She started carrying it around the counter when Loki saw pain suddenly flash in her eyes before she cried out and the roast fell from her hands.  Loki thrust out his magic and caught the platter before it could shatter on the floor and hurt her anymore.  Thor snagged it out of the air and set it on the table while Loki moved to Darcy’s side.

            “Sorry, sorry,” she gasped as he gently took hold of the arm she was cradling to her chest and examined her hand.  “I-I think it’s my wrist.  It just popped.  I couldn’t hold it anymore.”

            “Shh, my love, let me see.”  Carefully, Loki confirmed that it was her wrist.  The weight of the roast had caused it to slip out of the joint.  She whimpered quietly as she struggled to hold back tears of pain.  “It’s dislocated, love.”

            “If it’s dislocated, she needs a doctor,” Jane piped up, rifling through her purse for keys.  “Do you need us to drive or...?”  Jane trailed off as Loki and Darcy disappeared from sight. 

            “He’s in a rush,” Thor put in with a shrug. 

            “We should still go,” Jane pulled out her keys.  “Darcy’ll need us.”

            “As will my brother, though he’d never admit it.”

 

            Several intense hours later, Thor had all but tied Loki to a chair to keep him from ripping the hospital apart from worry and anxiety while Jane looked on, unsure if she should be amused or concerned.

            “Mr. Lewis?”  A middle-aged doctor approached them, holding a clipboard. 

            “Is she alright,” Loki demanded, all but shoving Thor away from him. 

            “Your wife is fine, sir.  We were able to put her wrist back in order without any surgery, and she’s been a real trooper.  We’ve given her something to help with the pain and I’ve written her a prescription for some painkillers for the next few weeks.”  The doctor kept speaking but Loki tuned the rest out, allowing the knowledge that his lover was safe to ease the violence that had been building inside him. 

            “May I see her?”

            “Of course.  She doesn’t need to stay overnight, so you can take her home once we finish the last stats.  Just make sure she doesn’t overwork that wrist.  And by overwork, I mean don’t let her lift anything heavier than a paperback novel.”

            Darcy on drugs was simultaneously hilarious and terrifying.  Her tendency to say the first thing that crossed her mind was only amplified, resulting in several vulgar references to the good doctor’s various body parts.  And then she’d keel over like her spine no longer functioned, giving Loki multiple heart attacks.  She waved her braced hand around like a conductor, humming tunelessly as Loki filled out the required paperwork, Jane hovering around her like a nervous bird. 

            Thor had politely suggested that Jane drive them all home and Loki had reluctantly agreed, teleportation not being a reliable means of transportation when one traveler is too frazzled to think straight and the other is drugged out of her very pretty mind.  He carefully settled his lady into the car, scowling as he maneuvered the tight backseat.  He despised mortal transportation.  Darcy giggled at him.

            “You look so pissed,” she said before flopping over onto his lap.  Loki tsked at her as he ran his fingers through her hair gently. 

            “You’re so much trouble for such a little thing,” he said softly, tracing her ear lightly.

            “Youuuuu like me,” she said in a sing-song voice that suggested that she was making a vague reference to some form of Midgardian pop culture she had yet to expose him to.

            “Yes, I do, Valhalla help me.”

 

            Later that night, after he’d finally gotten Jane and Thor to _go away,_ he’d curled up with his lady, gently kissing her uninjured hand while studying the thick purple brace of the other.  He didn’t know whether to weep or laugh. 

            Hands were like machines.  As they aged, the gears rust and decay until they fail.  And when one gear or nut or screw fails, so do the rest. 

            His beautiful, loving, laughing, darling Darcy was aging. 

And he never would.


	7. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for Tasertricks Week: Tickling or Jealousy.   
> Seven Prompts for Seven Friends Part One! This ones for dr-watson-at-221b who requested a ticklish Loki with a side of biting. Fluff

             Darcy laid sprawled on the couch, snapping through channels with the swift disapproval of the bored and restless. “No, nope, nada, stupid, stupid, _stupid_ ,” she growled out before snapping the TV off with a grunt.  “Loki!” She hopped off the couch and jogged up the stairs.  “Loki,” she swung into his room without knocking.  The alien-god didn’t so much as glance up from his computer screen.

            “Go away, Darcy.”  His tone was dismissive rather than harsh, his fingers clattering skillfully across keyboard.

            “But I’m bored,” she dragged out the word until she flopped on his bed with a huff, taking a moment to enjoy the soft green coverlet. “There’s nothing to do.”

            “Strictly speaking, there’s plenty for you to do.  For example, I believe Jane emailed you some data to sort through.”

            “Ugh, I spend forty hours a week looking at her data.  I want to do something more exciting than data entry. Even watching grass grow is more fun than that.”

            “Then I suggest you do so.” 

            Darcy glared at his back while tapping her fingers against the coverlet before rolling off the bed with a groan.

            “Whatcha doin’?”  She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her eyes over the screen.  A language that looked suspiciously like Russian littered the document Loki was poring over.

            “Research,” he said shortly.

            “Research for what?”

            Loki turned his head up and kissed her jaw lightly.  “Nothing that concerns you, pet.”

            “I didn’t know you could read Russian.”  Darcy ignored his gentle efforts to detach and dismiss her.

            He made a _tch_ sound. “Your mortal languages are laughably simple.  A mere thirty-three letters?  Child’s play.”

            “Oh ho, Mr. Superiority, now I have to know what you’re reading in the oh-so-easy Russian secret file thingy.”

            “It’s not a secret file.”  Loki squirmed as Darcy started running fingers through his hair. 

            “So, what is it?”  Darcy idly ran a set of long nails down his rib cage and was surprised when her lover tensed underneath her.  “And what was that?”

            “What was what?”  His voice sounded impressively casual but Darcy was more perceptive than anyone gave her credit for. She ran her nails over his ribs again and he squirmed.  “Stop that.”

            “Are you ticklish, Loki?”  The intern didn’t bother hiding her glee.

            “No, I’m not.”  He sounded like a defensive teenager.  In response, she wiggled her fingers into his side until he made a choked, giggling sound.

            “Ha, you totally are.  I can’t believe I didn’t figure that out before.”  Darcy moved as if to tickle him again, but, this time, the god grabbed her hand and, spinning himself around, pulled her into his lap.

            “I’m not ticklish.”  Loki glared at her, pinning her hands to her sides. 

            “You’re cute when you’re in denial,” Darcy stuck her tongue out at him impishly. It was safe to say she was startled when he caught her tongue with his teeth and held her prisoner for a few seconds before nibbling on her bottom lip. 

            “I. Am. Not. Ticklish.”  He timed his words with his bites.  Darcy was grinning ear to ear.  This was a game she could get behind.

            “You’re so ticklish they outa stick you in a plastic box and make you say ‘tickle me’ to all the adorable preschoolers they can find.”  The next bite landed on her neck harshly; Darcy knew there’d be one hell of a bruise in the morning.

            “I’m not ticklish and if you continue to make such claims, I’ll have to find more creative ways to silence you.”

            “Bring it on, Elmo.”


End file.
